Flowers, honey and fruit, oh my!

Chia Xiong makes up a bouquet for a customer at the Fox Point Point Farmers Market one recent Saturday morning. Xiong travels to the weekly market from her flower farm in Sheboygan Falls. She charges $7 for a made-to-order bouquet of fresh-picked flowers.

I arrive at the Fox Point Farmers Market a little after 10:30 on a hot-hot Saturday morning and the place is alive, the queues at each stall three or four people deep, families chatting under the big linden tree, their dogs reposing on the cool grass.

All this bustle behind Stormonth Elementary School surprises me; I haven't been to the Saturday morning Fox Point market for three years and the last time I was here, it was a quiet, back lot of half a dozen stalls, only a short step removed from a vegetable wagon.

Now look at it: There are twice as many stalls and live music for most of the morning. There are many new vendors, including a booth from Will Allen's Growing Power and florist Chia Xiong, who sells the flowers that she grows on her farm in Sheboygan Falls. The colors are irresistible. I stop there first.

All of Xiong's flowers are in white buckets at her feet - lilies, snapdragons, baby's breath and flowers I've never seen before: globe-shaped yellow blooms with spiked green leaves similar to the leaves of a thistle. Xiong calls them basketball flowers. She grabs a clump for me, then adds a white lily, a rust-colored lily, some gorgeous purple snaps and baby's breath.

So, la, I have a centerpiece.

On to the food. The perimeters of our market-day assignment include finding at least one item we have never or rarely cooked with before. I select a bunch of red Swiss chard leaves. Deep forest green, garnet-veined, they are almost too beautiful to eat. But I have an idea for some ravioli starring that Swiss chard. I've been meaning to try the recipe for years and now I finally have an excuse.

I then choose a pint box of baby bok choy, a box of baby zucchini and some fresh strawberries. I also get a bag of tender salad greens and five golden tomatoes from the Growing Power booth. The tomatoes are an awful price, to be honest - around $6 - but they look like little suns. How can I resist?

My last stop is to a familiar face I remember from my last trip to the market three years ago - the honey lady. Her brand name is Batabee and she produces honey from her home on S. 31st St. in Milwaukee. But I need more than honey. I need dessert. I splurge on an 8-ounce jar of honey-almond spread, made with ground almonds, fresh butter and honey.

I walk home as the folk group sings a jazzed-up version of "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da." I hum along, my head full of tonight's dinner.

Recipes

This recipe is adapted from "The Classic Pasta Cookbook" (1999, Dorling Kindersley) by Giuliano Hazan. The ravioli are quickly assembled using store-bought won-ton wrappers.

Remove stalks from chard and wash leaves in several changes of water. Shake gently, but do not dry completely. Place leaves in a pan on medium-high with ½ teaspoon salt. Cover and cook until tender, about 8 to 12 minutes. Drain. When cool enough to touch, squeeze out excess liquid and chop fine.

Lay out half the won-ton wrappers on a large cutting board or counter top, dusted very lightly with flour. Place about 1 tablespoon of chard mixture in center of each wrapper. Cover with remaining wrappers and seal. (If edges of won-ton wrappers become dry and won't seal, moisten them slightly with a pastry brush dipped in water.)

Bring a large pot of water to boil, then reduce to a high simmer. Add olive oil. Working in batches of three or four at a time, cook ravioli, lowering them gently into the water using a slotted spoon. Cook gently for 2 or 3 minutes, until they look translucent and contents are warm. Remove to a serving platter.

Melt remaining butter in skillet. When foam subsides, add garlic and sauté for a minute or two, until light golden. Do not let garlic or butter burn. Remove from heat and drizzle over ravioli. Serve ravioli with remaining ¼ teaspoon salt (or to taste) and fresh grated pepper.